


Mirth and Sorrow (part 2)

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [56]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Facebook: Mystrade is our Division Fic Prompts, Marriage, Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 03:03:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20735192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: It's Greg ang Mycroft's wedding day. Eurus Holmes appears...





	Mirth and Sorrow (part 2)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts | Wine
> 
> This is Part 2; please read [Mirth and Sorrow - Part 1 first. ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17514638)
> 
> These last few one-shots have turned into something of a continuing story. While each can stand on its own, based on its prompt, if it fits, I will be reordering them around to fit the tale chronologically as needed. This mini series begins at Part 45 with ["Out of Time"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19886461) and continues through here.

Mycroft had never expected to be so utterly happy in all his life.

He stood next to Gregory who had just uttered the most beautiful words in reference to him.

“I have to say I do love the sound of those two words from your mouth.” He had teased.

Gregory smiled a most beatific smile and repeated them. “My husband.”

Mycroft had never expected to be so utterly devasted in all his life.

Greg had ingested Eurus’ poison. It was acting fast and there was nothing he could do but helplessly watch.

An agent rushed to them signaling John as she threw a syringe towards him. The doctor caught it in midair and turned to Gregory. He glanced at the color-coded plunger and let loose a very expressive string of curses as he immediately injected Gregory through his sleeve, there was no time to waste on removing his jacket.

The four of them had known her plans and had taken precautions, but none had fully expected her to ever get this close. Mycroft’s mind, his heart, his very soul had shut down in the seconds it took for Gregory to collapse to the floor from the poisoned wine his insane sister Eurus; disguised as one of the wait staff at their wedding, had personally served. She grinned at her elder brother ferally as Sherlock held her. 

The man who did not believe in God silently begged the universe for the second time in his life to give him back this man. Mycroft’s mind, heart, and soul only truly restarted again when Gregory opened his eyes. The countermeasures had started to work.

Gregory reached up and touched Mycroft’s face with a weak smile. “Help me up, love.” 

Mycroft knew the wild desperation in Gregory’s eyes matched his own as he helped him to stand.  
  
There was a moment of chaos when a slew of agents rushed onto the scene. He heard none of the commotion around him, his attention focused on his husband of all a few very short hours in his arms.

The two brothers were masters at hiding their feelings, but of the three Holmes siblings she was the one who truly did not feel. Still, the woman’s eyes grew wide and her struggle in Sherlock’s arms ceased. Mycroft noted Sherlock’s look of grim satisfaction in seeing her reaction as Gregory slowly, painfully stood and faced Eurus.

“Surprise you fucking bitch!”

She clearly had not expected Gregory to rise, let alone speak to her in a voice that was calm, far too calm as he sat in a chair. Gregory removed his jacket and rolled up a sleeve for John to give his a second injection. 

Mycroft looked from Gregory to Sherlock to John. He was the one who had dealt with her the longest; he understood they had left the decision to him. He nodded once in consent and, let the chips fall where they may.

He saw his sister’s face and knew she understood. It was his smile that then turned feral.

For the first time in her life, Eurus Holmes, who had inspired terror in others, was the one who looked terrified as Sherlock suddenly let her go. She was not terrified for long.

One moment Eurus stood between the men.

The next Eurus Holmes lay on the ground, a silver tipped dart in her neck.

“Oh god no! You told me, you _both_ told me… I didn’t want to believe, but my god!” Mummy shrieked as she fell to her knees prepared to cradle her only daughter’s head in her lap.

“No! You can’t Mummy. You _were_ warned. Let them take her away. Too many people.” Sherlock whispered harshly and gently pulled their mother to her feet.

The five of them stoically watched as Eurus Holmes was quickly taken away by some of the agents also dressed as wait staff. Mummy gave a shuddering sigh in her youngest son’s arms as he rubbed comforting circles on her back. Any question of where the Holmes brothers got some of their ways was answered, as she lifted her head with a cool detachment a few moments later.

“Damage control, now!” she said through gritted teeth, her eyes bright with unshed tears as she touched both Mycroft and Sherlock on their cheeks and gave a slight nod. She took another breath, and then touched both John and Gregory similarly, before she put a smile on her face, and returned to the guests.

Mycroft looked around for missing Anthea who should have been by his side by now.

Sherlock saw him looking and pointed to the patio doors where Anthea had nodded to a dark haired female agent to follow her as she stiffly walked towards them. At Sherlock’s nod, the remaining agents who surrounded them returned to their stations and the ones who were dressed as guests blended back into the crowd and ‘gossiped’ the prepared lies amongst the other guests.

“Anthea?” “That was _not_ a tranquilizer.”

The brothers spoke simultaneously to Anthea.

Mycroft could tell that John, understandably busy with Gregory, had just noticed the PA had arrived to stand at his other side.

“She came after me first, sir. By the time I realized I was poisoned I was nearly immobile from the paralytic, but was still able to inject my poisoner with our serum. I was quickly given the blue antidote by another agent and then taken to a guest room to be monitored as she came to cover you.” Anthea indicated the agent by her side who was in a gown, also dressed as a wedding guest. “He was a guard from Sherrinford under your sister’s control and measures were…taken.” 

Anthea pulled out her mobile as she answered her boss, fingers that normally flew over the keys were a little slow. She then looked to Sherlock, Gregory, and John in turn. The three men looked to Mycroft, whose visible relief among the four of them palpable.

As Anthea spoke, John continued to tend to Gregory while Mycroft’s held his husband’s hand. Gregory had broken into a sweat as the antidote warred with the poison he ingested. Still, he already he looked better than he had a few minutes ago. Each man understood what _measures were taken_ meant and gave curt nods to Anthea.

“Unlike the agent working as a guard who gave the us the initial intel to warn us, this Sherrinford guard was completely dazed by her. It took our drugs to break the hold. He said she wanted both you and Sherlock to suffer and wanted to watch it firsthand. That is when we learned she was disguised among the wait staff, but her plan unfolded before we could get to her or warn you. I am sorry sir.” The agent with Anthea spoke to Mycroft, then looked to Sherlock to answer his question, “You are correct, sir. That was not a tranquilizer. Those were not my instructions from Anthea.”

“And what were your instructions?” Gregory asked hoarsely.

“Verbatim?” she looked to Anthea who nodded with a slight smirk. “Anthea told me if she was out of commission to `treat her as if she’s a werewolf.’ I knew that meant to use these,” the agent pulled a weapon from a pocket in her voluminous gown and ejected one of the silver tipped darts inside, “my instructions were and I quote `If she gets _anywhere_ near them… Take. The. Bitch_. Down_.’”

“Good.” Gregory said emphatically.

As the one who saw the remnants of Eurus' actions years ago, having to release Mycroft from her cell then and being the target of her poisons minutes ago, his feelings were obvious. In spite of their best efforts, she had learned of Gregory. She had given the wine to both in her attempts to kill Gregory and John to make both brothers suffer. John’s lips were pressed tight; they all knew the doctor agreed with Gregory, but said nothing as he looked to the brothers.

Anthea looked to her boss and Sherlock “You may hate me for it, sir - Sherlock, but you will be alive to do so. That is _always_ my only concern.”  
  
The agent nodded her agreement as she reloaded the dart gun and hid it in her gown again.

Mycroft looked to his brother; he knew both of their faces remained impassive. Any actual familiar love for his sister had evaporated during that hellish day and night she had tortured Sherlock, John and himself in her twisted search for ‘emotional context’. He knew Sherlock had tried to connect with Eurus in the after math, but it eventually became clear that while she played silent and tragic with the family, she had begun to use her manipulative ways with the guards again. In fear of what she may do next, and because they were still angry with their eldest, Sherlock took it upon himself to their parents the full truth about her. Euros had recorded much of what she had done to the three men and Sherlock let their parents see it for themselves. It still took nearly a year from that night before their parents began to speak to Mycroft again.

Mycroft could not fathom how his mother must feel now as direct witnesses to their daughter’s actions. On what should be a joyous occasion was forever marred to be one bittersweet with the happiness of her eldest, juxtaposed with the death of her youngest. For now she worked to keep the festivities alive. It was much too soon to give analysis on any of their feelings.

He knew Anthea understood this as each man gave a single nod in acceptance of the agent’s actions under Anthea’s orders.

Mycroft had no care beyond whether his Gregory going to be all right. He looked to John now in query.

John had known about the blue, red, orange, and purple injectors. Those were coded to counteract the known equally color-coded major toxin combinations Eurus had favored using in the past. Eurus had caught them off guard with the ingestible, but it still matched what toxins they expected. John had not known about the silver darts and asked of their contents out of curiosity. He ignored the glance the agent gave Mycroft who nodded his consent before she told him.

The doctor’s eyes went a little wide in surprise, but the former army captain whistled in appreciation, “You guys don’t play around.”

“When it comes to the four of you? No, sirs, we do not.” The agent’s bald statement was both reassuring and frightening. 

“And what is your name?” John asked.

“Um… Raivenne.” She smiled at John enigmatically.

John pursed his lips in sense of déjà vu. “That’s not really your name is it?”

“No.” the woman answered. 

John shook his head, as all four men and Anthea smiled knowingly.

She was definitely one of Antarctica’s hand-picked agents.

“Raivenne, please check on…” Mycroft began.

“No sir,” she cut him off and continued before he could speak again “I am Anthea’s backup until her bloodwork is checked and she is cleared for active duty again. You know this.”

She was correct. The events had even Mycroft a little rattled. Only when Gregory brought his new husband’s hand to his lips had Mycroft realized the death gripped he had upon it and relaxed his hold.

“I’m all right, love. At least I will be soon enough.”

“I know. I know. But that was far too close. You know I grieved for you once. I… I can’t do it again.” Mycroft whispered earnestly, relieved tears glistening in his eyes.

“And we promised the only tears would be of joy and laughter, love. I’m not going back on it.” Gregory smiled.

Sherlock and John, who risked their lives and have come out on the other side of danger together far too many times, looked to each other knowing how both newlyweds have felt from either viewpoint.

“Greg, I want you on a saline drip for a bit. It should help flush it faster.” John checked Gregory’s pulse again, “I also need to draw blood for their lab to check as well. Let’s finish this inside.” 

Gregory stood and threw his arms around Mycroft as the two fell into a deep kiss. All in the group smiled as Mycroft and Gregory waved with promises to be back soon as they walked off hand in hand to the resounding applause of family and guests.

Mummy and Mycroft’s agents performed excellent damage control as they convinced the remaining family and guests that the waitress had simply passed out from the heat and excitement. It was an unseasonably warm day. Mummy, and the ‘gossipy’ agents who posed as guests, may also have implied that a rogue former officer from NSY had it out for Gregory. Not caring about collateral damage he used the wedding to exact his vengeance, by poisoning the wine he was knew would be served just to the newlyweds. Thus, upon their return when Gregory, slightly peaked but much better feeling, stuck to water for the rest of the evening, it was understood.

By the time most noticed the newlyweds had quietly slipped out from the festivities after a couple of hours had passed, the two were on their way to Heathrow.

“I am sorry it went down on our day like this, but I’m not sorry she's gone. Are you going to be okay, love?” Gregory asked concerned.

“She tried to kill you, Gregory. I am fine with her death.” Mycroft answered honestly, “I am also quite ecstatic for the next three weeks alone with you.”

“Ecstatic? May I make a suggestion then?”

“Yes?”

“We have already done the sorrow part, sort of... let’s say we work on that double mirth part John spoke of my brand spanking new husband.”

“Did you say _spanking_, my husband?”

“Later definitely...and the rest of our lives.” Gregory’s grin held nothing but lechery and promise as he pressed the button to close the partition between them and the driver. Leaning back Greg kissed his equally lust grinned husband as he pulled Mycroft with him. 

**Author's Note:**

> So glad I could come up with a part 2 to this.
> 
> And yes, I threw myself into a fic for the first time. I got the idea on my birthday, so it's a present to myself - forgive the indulgence.


End file.
